Nobody may be listening but here is a story about near death on the Arabia sunk off Echo Island in 1883, perhaps a somber harbinger of things to come. I thought of this when I read that there had been 14 fatalities there over the years. I could have been one of the first.
It was 1972 and the wreck had just been found the year before. A group of us college kids from Ann Arbor ( U of M) headed up to Tobermory for a long weekend and a dive on the site. Two of the group had training; one (that's me) had lots of "experience" but no formal diving courses.
We partied in the Provincial Park all night on all sorts of things and the next day around noon still bleary eyed we joined a charter boat headed out to the wreck. There were 10 -12 divers on board, none of whom we knew. I think it was late September, but the water was cold and I had no wetsuit so I wore several layers of clothing including a sweatshirt, tee shirts and a parka. I used a borrowed regulator that I supposed worked fine. I had no BCD. I wore my weights on a regular leather dress belt.
After 30 -45 minutes on the chartered tug, we anchored on the wreck in rolling seas and made our "plan". I would join my friends in a 3 person buddy group; the others were left to do as they pleased. We estimated that with single 72 in. tanks at 110 feet we had about 6 minutes bottom time and then would surface. So down we went into the cold afternoon gloom, following the anchor line down and down. Visibility was poor for Tobermory, perhaps 10 feet, no more. The colors were grey, brown and somber. The water was very, very cold and got colder as we went deeper.
Finally we emerged on the deck of the Arabia. We had gone through a thermocline and without a wetsuit I was shivering almost uncontrollably. I felt very uncomfortable and frightened. I was not enjoying the dive at all. My "buddies" swam toward the bow of the boat disappearing ahead of me in the grey gloomy water. Without warning, I inhaled and received a solid slug of water through my borrowed regulator. The instantaneous and involuntary response was to gag and I did, but somehow managed to keep the regulator in my mouth while trying to stem the urge to convulse. I knew there was no option but to surface. My buddies were long gone out of sight.
I rocketed toward the surface (I had no BCD) and breathed violently and forcefully into the regulator like I would do when hyperventilating only much harder trying to maintain air flow and prevent myself from convulsing. I swam upward as fast as I could. It seemed to take forever but finally I broke to the surface and belched vast volumes of air and water and retched to get rid of the inhaled water. I don't know how I didn't embolize, but I didn't. The heaving boat was some distance off and I swam toward it already exhausted and frightened, but glad to be alive and eager to leave this deadly watery environment.
The "captain", a grizzled old coot, had to drag me onboard and asked if I was all right. I nodded, not even bothering to explain I had almost drowned. He asked me to keep my fins and mask on in case someone needed help. Still dazed, shivering, and gasping, I nodded, never imagining that I would have to do anything.
Suddenly there was a cry from maybe 150 feet away in the heavy sea. Although I was still recovering from my own ordeal, Captain Coot literally pushed me over the side and back into the frigid water I went, swimming toward several distant figures in the water. When I got to them, I found my buddies and a single diver,who had previously identified himself as a professional diver. Between them they were holding another diver whom the professional diver had found floating at the end of the weck with his regulator out of his mouth. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, skin pale blue, lips very blue, body rigid, blood tricking from his nose. I knew he was a goner. But my friends, who had had CPR training, worked on him as we all swam him back to the boat. We were helped on board by other divers, the captain cut the rope anchoring us to the wreck, and we started back to Tobermory about 45 minutes away.
The situation was surreal. I myself had almost died moments before I was sure. I looked at the "body" of the person who had been brought up. I was sure he was dead; he was rigid, lifeless and unseeing. But my friends did not give up on him. They continued CPR and mouth-to-mouth continuously as we headed back to port. I was virtually useless, untrained and ready to give him up as a goner. I felt depressed. I thought there was nothing that could be done. I sat away from the group working on the man because I literally did not know what to do.
After 20 - 30 minutes he began to cough and twitch. I couldn't believe it! He wasn't alert but after a time he was breathing on his own. When we got to port an ambulance met us and both he and the professional diver were whisked off.
The story as it later emerged was that the professional diver, who had double tanks and was diving on his own, had planned (and did) stay down longer than everyone else. After everyone else had surfaced he was still on the wreck and found the victim. He inflated his BCD and brought him to the surface, but as a result, made none of his planned decompression stops.
What we heard as the final outcome was that he (the professional) was bent - we don't know how seriously - but that the diver who was rescued recovered fully without brain or lung damage - it must have been the cold water. We estimated he had been floating for over five minutes before he was found. We never found out how he got separated from his buddy or why. But then we never really explored what went wrong with me in our diving group either.
As for me I am not sure I ever recovered fully. I had almost died, and was still trying to cope with that when I was thrust into having to try and help someone else. I was totally unprepared to do this, although I may have helped drag him to the boat. My buddies on the other hand never gave up. They worked on him ceaselssly using their training and in the end they saved his life.
It was a humbling experience. The dive, of course, was a classic study in stupidity and how not to do a dive. I am sure it would be a great case sudy in any dive class. It's remarkable there were not fatalities that day. There could have been two and maybe very serious long lasting decompression illness as well (maybe there was - there was no recompression chamber in Tobermory in those days and they had to medivac them to Toronto. We heard they installed a chamber in Tobermory shortly afterward.)
It's been 36 years, and although I have made many other dives, I am now taking a certification course. Maybe it's too late, but maybe not......As for the Arabia, maybe I'll go back there one day even though I can appreciate why 14 people have lost their lives there.
Not so macho dive person...